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ling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this cruel-hearted cur fhed one tear! he is a ftone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept, to have feen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herfelf blind at my parting. Nay, I'll fhow you the manner of it : this fhoe is my father; no, this left fhoe is my father; no, no, this left fhoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be fo neither; yes, it is fo, it is fo; it hath the worfer fole; this fhoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't, there 'tis : now, Sir, this ftaff is my fifter; for, look you, she is as white as a lilly, and as small as a wand; this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog; no, the dog is himfelf, and I am the dog: oh, the dog is me, and I añı myfelf; ay, fo, fo; now come I to my father; father, your bleffing; now fhould not the fhoe speak a word for weeping; now fhould I kifs my father; well, he weeps on; now come I to my mother; oh that the could fpeak now (9) like a wood woman! well, I kiss

her

(9) Like an ould woman!] Thefe mere poetical Editors can do nothing towards an emendation, even when 'tis chalk'd out to their hands. The first folio's agree in would-woman; for which, because it was a mystery to Mr. Pofe, he has unmeaningly substituted ould But it must be writ, or at least understood, wood woman, 1. e. crazy, frantick with grief; or, diftracted, from any other cause. The word is very frequently used in Chaucer; and fometimes wiit, wood; fometimes, wode.

woman.

What should he study, or make himself wood?

In his character of the Monk,

They told ev'r; man that he was zode,

He was aghafte fo of Nor's flode.

In his Miller's Tale. And he likewife ufes widens, for madness. Vide Spelman's Saxon Gloffary in the word wod. As to the reading in the old editions, would-woman, perhaps, this may be a defign'd corruption, to make Launce purposely blunder in the word; as he a little before very humorously calls the prodigal fon, the prodigious fan.I ought to take notice, that my ingenious friend Mr. War burton fent me up this fame emendation, unknowing that I had already corrected the place.

VOL. I.

I

her; why, there 'tis ? here's my mother's breath up and down now come I to my fifter; mark the moan fhe makes now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but fee, how I lay the duft with my tears.

:

Enter Panthion.

Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy mafter is ipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars: what's the matter? why weep'ft thou, man? away, afs, you will lose the tide if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft, for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty’d.

Pant. What's the unkindeft tide?"

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pant. Tut, man, I mean thou't lofe the flood; and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and in lofing thy voyage, lofe thy mafter; and in lofing thy mafter, lofe thy fervice; and in lofing thy fervice,

thou ftop my mouth?

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why doft Laun. For fear thou should'ft lofe thy tongue. Pant. Where fhould I lofe my tongue? Laun. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?

Laun. Lofe the flood, and the voyage, and the mafter, and the fervice, and the tide ? why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my fighs.

Pant. Come, come away, man; I was fent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou dar'it.

Pant. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

I had like to have forgot, that wood is a term likewife ufed by our own Poet. Midfummer-Night's Dream, A& 2.

And here am I, and wood within this wood.

Which Mr. Pope has there rightly expounded, by mad, wild, raving, And again, Shakespeare, in one of his poems, has this line: Then to the woods ftark wood in rage the hies her.

SCENE

Sil.

SCENE changes to Milan.

An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed.

Ervant,

SErvan

Val. Miftrefs?

Speed. Mafter, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then.

Speed. 'Twere good, you knockt him,

Sil. Servant, you are fad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I feem fo.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Val. Haply, I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you.

Thu. What feem I, that I am not?

Val. Wife.

Thu. What inftance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

Val. Well then, I'll double your folly.
Thu. How?

Sil. What angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of Cameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

Val. You have faid, Sir.

Thu. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time.

Val.I know it well, Sir; you always end, ere you begin.
Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly

hot off.

Val. 'Tis, indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, fervant?

I 2

Val.

Val. Yourself, fweet Lady, for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladyfhip's looks, and fpends, what he borrows, kindly in your company. Thu. Sir, if you fpend word for word with me, I fhall make your wit bankrupt.

Val. I know it well, Sir; you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your foilowers for it appears, by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words,

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: Here comes my father.

Enter the Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet, Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: What say you to a letter from your friends Of much good news?

Val. My Lord, I will be thankful

To any happy meffenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Anthonio, your countryman ? Val. Ay, my good Lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth and worthy eftimation

;

And, not without defert, fo well reputed.

Duke Hath he not a fon?

Val. Ay, my good Lord, a fon that well deferves The honour and regard of fuch a father. Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy We have converst, and spent our hours together: And tho' myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the fweet benefit of time,

To cloathe mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Protheus, for that's his name,
Made ufe and fair advantage of his days;
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth
Come all the praifes, that I now bestow ;)
He is compleat in feature and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke.

Duke. Befhrew me, Sir, but if he makes this good,
He is as worthy for an Emprefs' love,
As meet to be an Emperor's counsellor :
Well, Sir, this gentleman is come to me,
With commendations from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time a while.
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth
Silvia, I fpeak to you; and you, Sir Thurio;
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it:

I'll fend him hither to you prefently.

[Exit Duke

Val. This is the gentleman, I told your Ladyship,
Had come along with me, but that his mistreis
Did hold his eyes lockt in her cryftal looks.

Sil. Belike, that now the hath enfranchis'd them
Upon fome other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, fure, I think, the holds them pris'ners ftill Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he fee his way to feek out you?

Val. Why, Lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They fay, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To fee fuch lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object love can wink.

Enter Protheus.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Protheus: miftrefs, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with fome fpecial favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he, you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Miftrefs, it is: Sweet Lady, entertain him To be my fellow-fervant to your Ladyfhip. Sil. Too low a miftrefs for fo high a fervant. Pro. Not fo, fweet Lady; but too mean a fervant, To have a look of fuch a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability: Sweet Lady, entertain him for your fervant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed:

13

Servants,

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